


Not Another Teen!AU

by tchallabucky (PuppyWillGraham)



Series: stevebucky drabbles [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Bucky Barnes & Clint Barton Friendship, M/M, Nerd!Bucky, Stucky - Freeform, jock!Steve, stevebucky - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-10
Updated: 2015-01-10
Packaged: 2018-03-07 00:19:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3153734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PuppyWillGraham/pseuds/tchallabucky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jock!Steve and Nerd!Bucky. Steve is secretly into art; Bucky offers to be his art subject.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not Another Teen!AU

**Author's Note:**

> for corri - the inspiration for this little something.
> 
> title based on that spoof: not another teen movie. because i thought it was funny, it fits, and i really couldn't think of a better one.
> 
> [edit: added a little extra to the end of the fic, and now it actually feels complete instead of ending at an awkward interval.]

**Not Another Teen!AU**

James "Bucky" Barnes was the quiet one in the class, always behaving, always getting on with his work, always deep in thought when making his way to his locker between classes. More often than not, his thoughts get interrupted by the rowdiness of other class mates. Most notably, that jock, Steve Rogers. Bucky had noticed him, as did practically everyone else, but did anyone get  _half_ as distracted as he did just by the mere presence of the louder boy when across the hall? It's happening again, he's near enough zoning out, when a hand waves in front of his face, trying to grab his attention. Bucky blinks, before turning to face the owner of the hand, a brief smile flickering onto his lips as he shakes his head and clears his throat.

"Ya done now?" The lowered voice of Clint Barton, Bucky's best friend, cuts through loud and clear, and Bucky nods with a slight grin.

"Yeah. Sorry. Just...thinkin'," he shrugs a shoulder and places some science textbooks in his locker before grabbing a notepad, shoving it into his backpack.

"I noticed," Clint snorts, adjusting one of his hearing aids, before casting his friend a side glance. "What about?"

"Oh. Uhm.. Ya know, just work stuff," Bucky shrugs, not wanting to admit he'd been thinking about Steve Rogers. They were on opposite ends of the high school spectrum. He wasn't exactly _un_ popular. He just didn't let things get in the way of obtaining good grades, and that, he supposed, was why he wasn't considered _popular_. In with the cool kids.

"Work stuff. _Riiight_ ," Clint gives him a _look_ , one that says he's not buying whatever Bucky is selling, but drops it. That was one of the things Bucky appreciated most about Clint; he was laid back and chill, and didn't judge him for any of his... _quirks_.

 _Quirks_ , namely being his sexuality. He'd only really come out as pansexual to his best friend, but if anyone asked about it, then he'd probably tell them. He was glad they were living in the twenty first century, and not...say, _the 40's_ , where being anything other than straight was seen as taboo.

The bell cuts through the air, signalling that it's time for their next class, right before lunch, and both boys bid each other a quick goodbye, a ' _see ya at lunch, man_ ,' before making their way to their respective lessons.

* * *

The rest of the day passes by fairly quickly, each lesson bleeding into the next, with nothing spectacular happening at lunch, which was strange. Not that Bucky or Clint would notice, being holed up in the library for some extra study time. Well, on Bucky's part, at least. Clint mostly plays on his phone, texting away, or whatever the Hell he did on it most of the time. All Bucky knows is that he's interested in some chick. Natasha, or Natalia, or something. Clint never offers any extra information, so Bucky never asks. He figures Clint will tell him when he's ready, if anything major is happening.

When the end of the day finally arrives, the last bell of the day chiming, mostly all of the students disperse from the halls and out through the front doors of the main building, ready to leave the stress of high school behind for the weekend. Clint rushes off with no more than a wave and a grin thrown Bucky's way over his left shoulder, leaving him trailing behind. He pauses in front of his locker to shove some belongings into his backpack, shoulders it, and then makes his way out through the front doors so he can walk to the bus stop he needs to travel home.

It's already starting to spit with rain, shoulders hunched as he braces himself against the natural elements and walks a bit faster, not really paying attention to any of his surroundings. He doesn't notice someone approaching, at a much faster pace, and by the time he looks up, they've already collided, the other muttering a quick, ' _sorry, sorry, didn't mean ta--_ ', as they both right themselves, and oh.

 _Oh_ , indeed.

Because it's not just anyone Bucky Barnes has collided with. It's Steve Rogers.

"It's no trouble," Bucky manages to say, smooth as he could be in such a situation, because whilst Clint keeps stuff from him when he doesn't bother to ask, especially about that potential crush on that girl he has, Bucky also may or may not have a crush of his own. On the jock standing in front of him, almost awkwardly. Bucky is often good at reading people, and as he finally looks up to peer at the other, he sees him properly for the first time.

"I've just gotta... Go. I'll see ya around, Barnes," and then Steve rushes off, leaving Bucky staring at him as he near enough sprints back towards the school, as if he's done this hundreds of times before.

* * *

 Bucky doesn't think about what happened the afternoon before a lot. He thinks about it every goddamn minute after it's happened, even going so far as to _dream about it_ that night. The dream makes him groan internally every time the images from it flicker across his mind, when instead he should be concentrating on an extra art class he's new to. It's kind of hard to concentrate, anyway, what with Steve Rogers being there, which is half a surprise. Half not because he's seen some of the doodles the other boy has scribbled into his notepad whilst taking notes in class, when Bucky should've been paying more attention to the teacher than his fellow student. Who he has a crush on. The pathetic kind, and Bucky wants to kick himself for that fact.

Nobody bothers to speak to him during the class and he keeps himself hunkered down, only willing to look up if called upon. Nobody does call upon him until the last five minutes, when they're given a partner project. He can almost feel himself start to pale at the thought. Nobody was especially friendly with him in this class, and when his name is called out, he's most surprised when Steve sticks his hand up.

"I'll be his partner for this," he says, not even bothering to look over at Bucky as he practically saves him from being paired up with someone he doesn't even know.

"Alright," their teacher nods. "Barnes and Rogers, you'll be focusing on portraits."

Which translated to sketching each other. Oh, _fuck_.

* * *

They go back to Bucky's house after the two hour lesson is up, and it's just as awkward as Bucky thought it would be. Or maybe it's just his mind playing tricks on him, Steve suddenly a lot more silent and...thoughtful?

"Hey," Bucky breaks the silence, which is just about bordering on an awkward one. "This is okay, right? You pretty much saved my skin back there."

"Hm?" Steve seems to come back to his normal self, chuckling and grinning. "Yeah, it's no problem, man. Are we gonna go up to your room, then?"

And if the thoughts that ran through his head at those words just stayed pure, he would be fine. Just fine. But they're not, and he turns slightly to mutter a, ' _come on, then,_ ' before Steve shrugs and follows.

"So.. We just need to sketch each other?" Steve nods. "Do ya wanna sketch me first?"

The words are out before Bucky can stop them, and he very nearly takes them back, before the other male hums and nods again, acting all...silent and thoughtful again. It's a bit nervewracking, but mostly okay. Bucky can do that. He can let Steve sketch him. Stare at him. Observe him. And--

Yeah, that was going to be a lot more difficult than he originally thought it would be.

"How do ya want me? To sit, I mean. Pose, or whatever," Bucky is sure there's a flush to his cheeks and he coughs, clearing his throat, sitting on his bed as Steve decides to sit on the floor, knees up so he can rest his sketch pad against his thighs, blue eyes on Bucky's form.

"There's just fine. No need to pose, Barnes," he shrugs a shoulder lightly, brows furrowing slightly as he starts outlining already.

"You can call me Bucky,  y'know," Bucky murmurs, not wanting to be on just a surname basis.

"Oh. Well...Bucky," Steve smiles slightly, a lilt to his nickname that Bucky decides he enjoys. He enjoys a lot about Steve, even in the silence that now sits between them, watching and observing the other as much as he, himself, is watched and observed.

"I had no idea you were into art," the silence is nice, but after a while, Bucky attempts to strike up a conversation.

"Not a lot of people do," another shrug, more sounds of the pencil scribbling and scratching against paper. "It's kinda...secret, this hobby. I dunno what anyone else would think. The art classes on Saturday are nice."

"Oh," Bucky says softly, almost a murmur. "Worried about what anyone else will say?"

"Kinda," Steve replies, tapping the pencil against his lips, huffing out a soft exhalation of air as he looks over his work completed thus far. He looks a little disappointed. "The guys, they're all into sports and stuff. I prefer art."

It's a confession, of sorts.

"Then why-"

"-am I a jock?"

"Yeah."

"It's easy in high school. If I can get through this, without jerks finding out, it'll be fine."

"Oh," Bucky repeats. He was saying that word a lot this afternoon.

"Yeah-hm. Almost done."

Bucky sits up, ready for Steve to show him when he's done, but Steve presses the sketch to his chest, glancing at everything in the room that isn't Bucky. Bucky frowns slight, opening his mouth to say something but Steve just shakes his head.

"Draw me," he says, and although it's not an order, Bucky finds himself obeying. He's not nearly as efficient as Steve, or as good. Not that he'd know, because even by the time he's finished sketching the other--a pathetic attempt, in Bucky's opinion, chucking it onto his pile of other drawings and doodles--Steve still won't let him see his work.

"I wanna see," the male sitting on the bed inches forward, leaning towards the other who's still sat on the floor. "Please."

Steve shakes his head, muttering, "it's no good."

"Why does it matter?"

"Because."

"That's not a reason."

" _Bucky_."

Bucky suddenly smirks, moving quickly to try and slip the paper from Steve's hands, but Steve moves _quicker_ , eyes widening as he dives out of the way and scrambles up onto the bed. He stifles a laugh.

" _Steve_ ," Bucky drawls, finding confidence from seemingly nowhere, as he follows suit and also scrambles onto the bed, hovering partially over the other. "C'mon. Let me see. It can't be that bad. I've seen some of your other stuff."

Steve freezes, a light flush spreading across his cheeks that Bucky's never been close enough to see before. It's beautiful.

"I mean.. your doodles, with your notes in class."

Steve nods, swallowing as he continues to hold the sketch to his chest, the jock-ish façade disappearing completely. He's caught like a deer in headlights as he stares up at Bucky, both of them seeing each other properly for the first time as their gazes lock. Steve's grip on the piece of paper loosens so much that it falls to the floor, but Bucky says nothing about it, only reaches up to brush his knuckles across Steve's jawline. If Steve wants to pull away, he will...

But he doesn't. He leans into the touch, continuing to gaze up at Bucky as he raises a hand to place at the back of Bucky's neck, slowly pulling him closer so their lips can brush in a light kiss. Bucky is the one to freeze now, not knowing what's going on, and Steve hesitates, but he doesn't pull away, as if waiting for Bucky to decide whether he wants to be kissed again. He does.

* * *

Bucky only breaks away to scoop up the picture that has fallen onto the floor. Arching an inquisitive brow at the other boy beneath him, as if asking permission to look at what Steve has drawn, he exhales a soft breath with a smile as Steve nods once with a small smile of his own.

So Bucky looks. And smiles slightly wider, a crooked little thing on his lips. It's the most beautiful drawing he's ever laid eyes on, and he says as much. All Steve does is grumble about a load of--in Bucky's opinion, at least--non existent mistakes. There were no errors that Bucky could see, and he says as much again.

"'S'beautiful, Steve," he coos, dropping the picture onto the bedside table before leaning in to kiss the other boy again, before he has a chance to complain.

Bucky doesn't notice the light blush at the compliment starting to spread across Steve's cheeks at first, but when he does, he grins again and kisses along the loveliest set of cheekbones he's ever had the pleasure of laying eyes on.

Steve strokes a hand down over Bucky's back soothingly, unable to stop himself. "This doesn't mean I'm--"

"You're not what? Gay? Nah, me neither," Bucky shrugs a shoulder slightly.

"You're not?" Steve's brows furrow a little, and once more, Bucky thinks it's one of the loveliest quirks he's ever seen. Or maybe it was just because it was Steve Rogers.

"Nope. 'M pansexual," he grins almost lopsidedly and rests his head on Steve's chest.

"Huh.. Well. I'm not gay...but I ain't straight, either," and it's the strangest but most comforting thing, discussing their sexualities like they don't have a care in the world. Like they've known each other for decades.

"Bi?" Bucky guesses, and internally congratulates himself on just how well he can read others when Steve huffs a soft laugh but inclines his head a little and hums in assent.

They stay like that until Steve has to make his way home. Cuddling on the bed, no more and no less, and Bucky feels simply elated when the boy he's had a crush on for so long asks him out on a date, Steve being more nervous than usual. This must be the real Steve Rogers, and Bucky Barnes feels lucky that he's one of the only ones to ever be privy to him.

**Author's Note:**

> kudos and comments are appreciated, this has been most fun to write.


End file.
